


See The World Hanging Upside Down

by loonyBibliophile



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Post Finale, and helping fitz a little too, basically may helping simmons deal with coma and post coma fitz, basically team mom may, with some fitzsimmons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-24
Updated: 2014-08-24
Packaged: 2018-02-14 11:59:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2190975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loonyBibliophile/pseuds/loonyBibliophile
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You're not supposed to be here." Simmons whispers, even though it's unnecessary. The soft sound of her voice isn't going to wake Fitz from his coma, or he'd have awoken days ago. </p><p>"Neither are you." May says, barely shrugging. </p><p>"Are you going to kick me out?" her voice shakes slightly, and she grips the side of Fitz's bed as if her arms could anchor her if May chose to move her. But May shakes her head</p>
            </blockquote>





	See The World Hanging Upside Down

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like Simmons would be more comfortable confiding in May than anyone else, in the aftermath. So this was my take on that. Melinda May is important and I feel like she'd sort of take a personal approach to keeping our young a vulnerable teammates safe. Unbeta'ed.

I.

"You're not supposed to be here." Simmons whispers, even though it's unnecessary. The soft sound of her voice isn't going to wake Fitz from his coma, or he'd have awoken days ago. 

"Neither are you." May says, barely shrugging. 

"Are you going to kick me out?" her voice shakes slightly, and she grips the side of Fitz's bed as if her arms could anchor her if May chose to move her. But May shakes her head and Simmons heaves a sigh of relief, relaxing against the pillows. May raises a single eyebrow. 

"I knew you were sleeping in this room, but I assumed you were using the cot." 

"Yes.. I..." Simmons blushes fiercely, knowing how it must look that she's burrowed herself into her comatose best friend's hospital bed like a dejected and lonely cat. "I sleep better. If I can hear his heartbeat. That's all." she fiddles with the blankets. 

"Simmons, you're a terrible liar. Besides, I know the two of you share a bed." Simmons moves to protest, but May shakes her head again. "Don't worry. I know the two of you aren't involved. I just know you slept in the same bed."

"So why are you here, exactly?" Simmons asks carefully, eager to change the subject but not wanting to appear so.

"You aren't the only one who's worried, Simmons." May's voice is softer, and Simmons fancies that she sees concern on her face. 

"I know I'm not."

"They're worried about you as well, you know. Especially Skye." 

"I'm fine." May knows the lie is as much for Simmons herself as it is for the others

"I know you are." It's a lie, and Simmons knows it because may lets her knows it. She's grateful all the same. "But if you're ever not fine, we're here for you. Myself included." May rests a hand on Simmons' shoulder before leaving. The next morning, when Simmons wakes up, there's a spare blanket and a cup of hot tea on the bedside table. 

II.

Simmons doesn't realize she is screaming. If she'd known it, she would have stopped. But she continues, screams and sobs falling unbidden for her lips as she flails wildly at the punching bag in the Playground's gym. She can feel her hands bruising, and in her head she hears Fitz chide her for pushing herself too far, but when she remembers he is still not awake, it only spurs her on. She only stops when sometimes bodily pulls her from the punching bag. Suddenly aware of herself, she stops yelling abruptly, throwing her hands over her mouth in shock. 

"I'm sorry!" she shouts, before registering that May is the one who's pulled her back from the bag. "Oh god, I don't even know what I was doing. This is terribly unlike me, I'll be going now." she turns to leave but May anchors her, hands on shoulders. 

"It's alright to be angry. But anger is best used to hurt others, not yourself." May nods at Simmons' knuckles, red as can be and already blooming blue and blotchy. 

"I just... May, I don't know what to do. I just don't know." Simmons' voice is quiet and hoarse and she sounds more defeated than May has ever heard her before. And she understands. It's a road she's walked a hundred times. And she knows it never gets any easier. 

"That's not a feeling you're familiar with." They both know it's not a question, so Simmons simply shakes her head. 

"He's my... my..." The word best friend no longer feels right, and she doesn't know what to say instead, and it only furthers the pain and frustration that's making her chest feel like it's about to splinter and crack. "Fitz. He's my Fitz. And I can't do anything for him. I can't even pray for him, because what good is prayer when the one person you've always believed in can't hear you?" her voice cracks and May rests a hand on her shoulder again.

"You just have to wait, Simmons. Sometimes all you can do is wait for things to get better." 

"That's not helpful." 

"No. But it's true." 

"I know. Next time you need to work out your frustrations, come get me first. Fitz would be furious if he woke up and you'd hurt yourself." The smile May gives her is small and wry, but it's a smile. Simmons nods, and the pressure in her chest eases, just barely.

After that, May meets her in the gym once a week and teaches her the right way to work out her frustrations. 

III.

The knock Simmons' makes at May's door is quiet and timid, and just when she is ready to assume she wasn't heard and run away, it swings open. May makes a barely noticeable questioning expression.

"You told me once if I was ever not fine I could talk to you and I was wondering if that was still an option." The words tumblr out all at once. May nods. 

"Of course. Just come in." Simmons sidles in, a bundle of twitching nerves, and May closes the door silently. 

"I don't know who else to talk to." Simmons sit stiffly in a spare chair. May remains standing

"I assume this is about Fitz?"

"He's furious with me, and I'm furious with him, and I feel so terrible being mad at him because I just want to be happy he's alive and remembers me. But I can't be. And you... seemed the most likely to understand, I suppose." 

"Why did you think that?"

"Things between yourself and Coulson have always seemed... complicated to me. You just seemed liek you might understand being glad someone has come back to you and being furious with them at the same time." 

"You aren't wrong. But to help you, Simmons, I need to know what happened." She doesn't say 'at the bottom of the ocean', but both know it's hanging in the air unspoken. 

"He told me he loved me. He told me there was only enough air for one person, and he told me he loved me and he made me take the single breath of air. He tried to die for me without ever asking me if I wanted him to. Without considering maybe I didn't want that choice on my conscious, or didn't want to leave him behind." 

"And why is he mad at you?"

"For putting myself in danger. For pulling him from the ocean by risking my safety. He thinks I should have let him die rather than risk myself, which is absurd because I'm fine and he's... he's."  
"In a wheelchair." May finishes for her, and Simmons nods glumly. 

"And he's not just furious. He won't talk about it. And I know he might just not be ready but... I need to talk about it. It's.. it's a lot to not discuss."

"Which part won't he talk about?"

"Neither. He won't talk about what he said or what he did. He just keeps trying to talk about work and act like everything is normal, and I want to do that for him. I want things to be normal so terribly. But they aren't."

"You're right. I do understand. Coulson... Phil. And I have always had a difficult friendship. Friendship, partnership, romance, all those things are always difficult, but even more so when you partake of them with someone who knows the parts of you that you don't let see the light. You and Fitz have seen each other through a lot, on and off this team, or so I get the feeling. What happened at the bottom of the ocean? You can never go backwards. You can never undo death, or almost death, or confessions of feelings you didn't anticipate. You've accepted that. Fitz isn't ready to. Not yet." 

"I'm going to have to wait again, aren't I." 

"Yes. But Fitz will come around."

"Will we ever be okay again?" Simmons looks up at May, and May has never seen her look so young. Not even as she searched desperately for a cure to save her own life. Not when Fitz was sent out with no extraction plan. Then, she was determined. Working towards a goal. Curled against herself in May's chair, eyes just this side of teary, she looks small and defeated and frightened. 

"Yes. You will not be the same. But you will be okay. Nothing erases nine years of friendship, Jemma. Not confessions of love or even death."

"... Thank you." 

"We're teammates. Friends. It's what is done." 

A few nights later, May sees Fitzsimmons sitting on the floor in the common room, both holding mugs of tea that had gone cold. Simmons is crying, but May can tell it's the good kind of crying. She can't hear the, but she can read lips, and as Fitz pulls Simmons towards him his lips say 'I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry' over and over again. May smiles, and leaves the kitchen light on, and leaves a plate toast with jam on the table. 

IV.

Simmons knocks much less timidly this time, and she is holding two mugs of tea in her hands. May opens the door and smiles, just a little. 

"I brought tea." 

"No tears this time?" May asks, barely playful. Simmons smiles bashfully and shakes her head. 

"No, no crying. I came to thank you." 

Simmons sits in the chair again, and rests the mugs of tea on May's desk. May doesn't question how Simmons knows how she takes her tea, the scientist is frighteningly observant. And admirable quality, really. 

"Thank me?" May asks evenly, before taking a sip of tea. She figures she knows what for, but she wants to let Simmons explain herself. 

"For everything, really. You've been... wonderful. Throughout this entire process. I haven't been myself and you've been very helpful and understanding, and I am forever appreciative."

"It's no trouble. But I do have one question." 

"Oh! Anything, May, really." 

"Why me? Why not Skye, or Coulson, or even Triplett?"

"I thought that might be it. It's got a little to do with you, a little to do with me, and a little to do with everyone else. Coulson and Skye... I care for them. Dearly. But they've both got so much to deal with, and not only that but neither of them are the most... rational. And Triplett is wonderful. He's a great man and friend. But I hardly know him. And entrusting my... fears and hopes about Fitz and I into another man, especially a man I know Fitz was, at first, horridly jealous of, seemed wrong somehow." 

"That makes sense." 

"And as for me... I've got a bit of a strained relationship with my parents. I love them, and they love me, but we've never quite connected. But, and I hope you don't take this the wrong way, I had a grandmother, growing up. She was harsh but she was good. You remind me of her."

"That's not insulting at all." May says carefully, and it's the softest she has ever sounded to Simmons. 

"So yes. That's why you." 

"Could I as one other thing?"

"Of course." 

"How are you and Fitz?"

"We're... we're working on it. Things are shaky, and you're right, they aren't the same as they were, and they won't ever be. But we're working out the bumps, as it were. He gets grumpy when he has to use the chair, and he gets tired of feeling like a burden, so I let him talk me into riding with him in it sometimes. Just to make him feel better, of course." 

"Of course." May smiles wryly. 

"But we've... talked about things. And agreed to talk about things again, later. When we've both had more time to deal with what's happened. But we're coping and we're doing it together, and that's what matters." 

"I'm glad."

"I should go. I'm supposed to play Scrabble with Trip and Skye." 

"I'll see you in the gym." 

"Yes. Thank you." Simmons smiles warmly, and retreats easily and quietly. 

When May goes into the kitchen to make herself her nightly cup of chamomile, there is a half completed scrabble game on the living room floor. Fitz and Simmons have collapsed onto the couch in a tangled heap, so May flicks the lights off and drops a quilt over them.

V.

"Agent May." Fitz says, his voice full of mock confidence. 

"Just May, Fitz." 

"Right. May." 

"Do you need something?" May watches as Fitz fidgets with his sweater sleeves, fidgeting with the cane he's been allowed to start using instead of the wheelchair. 

"You've been helping Jemma out." Fitz says with a nod, fingers tightening on the cane. 

"I have." 

"I wanted to thank you. It's been hard on her. Everything. Me. She's... she's not very good at talking to people. It means a lot that she was willing to go to you. But I reckon you knew that." 

"I did." 

"We've never really had much. In the way of friends. Just each other mostly. So I suppose I just wanted to say thank you, for looking after her when I couldn't. not that Jemma needs to be looked after, she'd hate if she heard me say that. but she can be a bit jumpy and I'm just... I'm glad someone was there for her when I couldn't be." he nodded stiffly. 

"Always glad to help, Fitz." 

"About that. Do you think, if Jem doesn't mind, I could join in on your training sessions? Once I've got my strength back? I dun want to be so helpless, never again." 

"Neither of you were ever helpless, Fitz. But of course." 

A few weeks later, Fitz stands on his own two feet, with only a little help from Simmons' hands on his hips, and lands a series of light but even punches on the punching bag in the gym. When, after an hour, he is winded but still standing, Simmons rewards him with a tight hug and a kiss pressed to his forehead. 

May smiles, secure in the idea that if, after everything, the pair of scientists have come out alright, then everything will be alright eventually.


End file.
